Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Night shift story time again! I'm just gonna do the long rambling
version, full of fun and adventure, and also barely-connected tangents
given in nigh-incomprehensible style (I LOVE PARENTHESES SO MUCH)!

So this guest came up to the front desk and said that his wife knew
nothing about the Mormon faith but she was interested in the Book of
Mormon. We have 'em in our rooms because Utah, along with the Bibles
that the Gideons leave (by the way, I've worked at a bunch of hotels and
I don't think I've ever actually seen a Gideon; I think they must be
ninjas. Also, the Bible Dictionary says that "Gideon" means "hewer down
of men" which is basically "man-mower" and I don't think I'd want to
mess with that. So... probably ninjas) but in this case somebody had
written in the one in their room and they were wondering if they could
have one to keep. In my head I'm going "OH MY GOSH I COULD HAVE USED A
FEW MORE PEOPLE LIKE YOU WHEN I WAS A MISSIONARY" and I scrambled around
a bit at the desk to find the box of extras that we keep on hand, but
they were nowhere to be found. PROBABLY Satan's doing, is what I'm
saying. Either that or it was housekeeping's fault somehow. Basically
all the evils in the world originate from either Satan or the Fairfield
housekeeping department. Except when it's Dave, who I suspect has ties
to both of those things. (Did I mention that I asked Dave to get us a
mop? He got us one! And it's TINY. I'm looking this gift horse in the
mouth and I can't even see if there are teeth in there, it's so small)

Anyway, I check the system and find an unoccupied room, make myself a
key, and run over there to get a Book of Mormon, because somebody's
eternal salvation is at stake here (but not really because they'd get a
chance even if I drop the ball, but they'd have to wait who knows how
long for that bus to come by again, you know? And what are the odds of
some random person in Utah being willing to give them a Book of Mormon
anyway? It's 55% according to a recent Pew Research survey on
religiosity of adults in Utah) and when I get to the room, I check the
drawer and the only thing that's in there is the Bible. "WHY IS THERE
JUST THE STICK OF JUDAH IN HERE!?" I don't completely dismiss the
possibility that it was taken by our housekeepers, who are basically the
Mongol Horde with cleaning carts and fingers so sticky they could
probably scale a sheer glass surface (like geckos, except that geckos
don't have sticky fingers, they use something called van der Waals
forces to take advantage of attraction between atoms which is totally
sweet, but housekeeping has sticky fingers in the figurative sense in
that they steal anything that isn't nailed down, and if it IS nailed
down then HEY LOOK FREE NAILS) and I'm basically never above blaming
housekeeping for things not being where they ought to be.

Suddenly it occurs to me that we had the big Jehovah's Witness
convention a couple of weeks ago (¡En Inglés YYYYY Español!), and it
wouldn't have occurred to me to blame them except we actually had a
couple of them come down and ask if they could leave the Book of Mormon
at the front desk because they didn't want to be in the same room with
it. So maybe it was them one or maybe somebody else in the group saw a
chance to strike a blow for Jesus/Jesús and took it home to burn it or
something. Pretty nice guests for the most part, though.

I run
back to the desk and get another room key for a different room. The
guest is like "If you can't find one, it's okay" because he obviously
doesn't grasp the SERIOUSNESS OF THE SITUATION. If I can't give a Book
of Mormon to a guy who is literally standing there asking for one, I'll
basically be the worst Mormon ever. I'm already not doing so hot on
account of that whole hating my neighbor thing (seriously it's like RULE
#2 so it's kind of a big deal. I don't mean my actual neighbors; in the
three years since I've lived where I am now I have spoken to them all a
grand total of zero times, which is awesome, and in my last apartment I
only talked to my neighbors once and that was when they accidentally
locked themselves out of their apartment with their baby inside and so I
broke in with a butter knife in like 30 seconds LIKE A HERO).

Fortunately the second room had one, and I checked to make sure nobody
had written garbage in this one, but it was cool. You can't foil me this
time, housekeeping/Satan/Dave/JW Convention (¡En Inglés YYYYY Español!)
I was feeling pretty good about everything when suddenly he gave me a
tip. Three whole dollars. Which means I have now committed priestcraft,
spreading religion for filthy lucre, and my efforts at being Not the
Worst Mormon Ever were all for naught. When he asked about it being
missing from the first room I told him that I suspected that the
Jehovah's Witnesses took it, and he told me that every Jehovah's Witness
he's ever met has been completely crazy. I told him, "They have a
very... insular culture." He told me I had a lot of tact, and I told him
that it's my job, which means I stop doing it when I clock out.

The front desk supervisor has been back from her mission for like a year
or something, and when she came in to work this morning after all of
this was over with I was like "I GAVE A GUEST A BOOK OF MORMON" and she
got this look on her face that was halfway between "THAT'S AWESOME" and
"My best night auditor is proselyting behind the counter at work, I am
going to have to fire him and the hotel will surely fail." Then I told
her that he had asked for one and that I accidentally committed
priestcraft because he tipped me, and she laughed a bunch at that. I was
having such a good time with my own cleverness that I forgot about the
cash drawer key in my pocket and drove all the way home with it, and had
to spend 20 minutes driving it back. Thanks a lot, housekeeping. Jerks.